


Drinking for Two

by Kacka



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drinking Games, Established Relationship, F/M, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-11
Updated: 2018-03-11
Packaged: 2019-03-29 23:47:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13938024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kacka/pseuds/Kacka
Summary: Clarke and Bellamy haven't told their friends about the pregnancy yet, and they're not planning to do so at Monty's birthday party. Of course, it being Monty's birthday party means the alcohol is flowing in abundance.Bellamy's solution is to intercept every drink that comes Clarke's way. As plans go, she thinks it's not his best work.





	Drinking for Two

So far, pregnancy is-- in a word-- annoying.

Clarke is thrilled about the baby, of course. She and Bellamy have been trying for so long she had feared she'd inherited the same difficulties her own mother had conceiving. They'd both cried when those two pink lines showed up on the home pregnancy test, and then cried again at the doctor's appointment the following week.

She knows it's the miracle of life or whatever, but ten weeks in it doesn't feel like it all that much. Her already above-average boobs have gotten even bigger, more sensitive and achy. Morning sickness, it turns out, can really mean sporadic nausea that crops up at any time of the day or night. She has to get up to pee every five minutes, it seems, and she's exhausted all the time.

To top it all off, she’s had a rough week at work. Between demanding clients, a pushy boss, and stressed-out coworkers, all Clarke wants at the end of the day on Friday is to fall into bed with her husband, a box of Girl Scout cookies, and _Great British Bake Off_.

Of course, Bellamy has been working overtime at his job too, putting in extra hours in anticipation of upcoming baby-related expenses, so Clarke has to settle under the blankets alone with her cookies. It comes as no surprise when she feels herself dozing off not halfway through the signature bake.

She wakes to his fingers combing through her hair, the mattress shifting as he climbs up next to her.

"You're home," she says, rubbing her groggy eyes and nestling closer.

"You're eating thin mints for dinner," he observes right back, prying the box from where it tilts at a precarious angle. She'd been clutching it like a teddy bear but Bellamy has seen far worse sides of her than this, so she can't bring herself to be all that embarrassed.

"It's what the baby wanted."

"Uh-huh. How would the baby feel about breakfast for dinner? We've got stuff for omelets but that's about all we have in the fridge."

"As long as we can eat omelets in bed, the baby thinks you're the greatest hero who ever lived."

Bellamy snorts. "The baby is easily impressed. But I wouldn't get too comfortable down there. We've got Monty's birthday party tonight, remember?"

"Ugh," Clarke groans, rolling so that her head is in his lap. "I don't want to go."

"We like Monty, remember?"

"It's impossible not to like Monty," she grumbles. "But I'm so tired."

"So take a nap while I go fix dinner. It doesn't start until eight."

"That's _so_ _late_." She can hear the whine in her own voice and hates herself for it, but Bellamy only pats her head, half-sympathetic and half patronizing.

"Go back to sleep. I'll wake you when the food's ready."

The bed feels too big when he gets up so Clarke stretches across it diagonally, nestling into the warmth he left behind and burying her face in the scent of his shampoo that lingers on his pillow.

Clarke drags her feet enough that they’re the last ones to arrive at Monty’s party. As soon as they walk through the door, Raven is there shoving shots into their hands.

“Hello to you too,” Bellamy laughs, raising his glass for inspection.

“Yeah this is my kind of service,” Clarke agrees, mind racing as she tries to figure out a way to play off not taking the shot.

They haven’t told any of their friends about the pregnancy yet, having been warned by both Abby and their doctor that a miscarriage was most likely to occur in the first twelve weeks, and that the odds Clarke would miscarry were even higher due to her family history. Ten weeks in, everything looks good so far, but she and Bellamy have decided to keep it under wraps until they're sure.

Of course, that means that her friends will expect her to be drinking tonight.

And will get suspicious if she doesn't.

"You guys need to catch up,” Raven says, oblivious to the circles Clarke’s mind is running. A rosy glow on her cheeks is the only indication that she's had anything to drink at all. She can drink all of them collectively under the table any day of the week.

It's both impressive and terrifying, just like everything else about Raven.

"How far behind are we?" She asks, stalling for time.

"Depends. Are we talking number of drinks or level of drunkenness? Monty and I are the most sober but we've also got higher tolerances. Miller's probably the most drunk, but I think he got here early to flirt with Monty and ended up pregaming a little too hard."

As she speaks, Bellamy tips his head back, the shot sliding easily down his throat. Then, before Clarke can object, he snags hers out of her hand and downs that too.

"Alright then," Raven says, amused. "Blake came to play. Although I think stealing someone else’s shot counts as a foul."

"What's hers is mine. That's the point of the whole marriage thing, right?"

"Pretty sure that doesn't apply to drinks," Clarke teases, hiding her relief.

"Pretty sure you didn't read the fine print," he shoots back. "Besides, I want to prove I can hold my booze better than Miller can."

"You definitely can't, but okay," Raven laughs. "Come on, Clarke. Let's get you another drink before this asshole can steal it."

Clarke’s stomach sinks. “Good call.”

"You snooze, you lose," Bellamy says, slinging an arm around her shoulders. "I don't make the rules."

"Well I’m pretty sure the rules say the drink-stealer has to replace the drink they stole. Last time I checked."

“She’s right,” Raven agrees. “I’ve heard that too.”

"I can live with that. I assume booze is in the kitchen?"

"Obviously." Someone calls Raven's name and she turns, nodding to whoever it was. "It's my turn for beer pong. I'll catch up with you guys later!"

"Later," Clarke agrees, melting into Bellamy's side as they steer in the opposite direction.

"You just want water?" He asks when they get to the kitchen. "Or it looks like they've got some stuff for mixers. Juice, soda-- though none of it's caffeine-free."

"I'll do the cranberry juice."

"Coming up."

"Hey, hit me up with a refill before you close that up. This shit is the best." Murphy says, coming into the kitchen behind them.

He reaches past Clarke for a bottle of vodka by the microwave, splashing a generous amount into his cup before handing it off to Bellamy. Before Clarke can grab her own drink, Murphy is picking it up off the counter and adding several splashes of vodka to it before capping the bottle again.

"It’s fine, I don’t like feeling my face anyway," Clarke says dryly. He snorts and adds another splash, swirling the cup in his hands.

“Trust me, you’ll like this. You want ice?”

"Sure, thanks."

"Don't get used to it."

Bellamy catches her eye and sets to work pouring a third cup of juice, taking care to keep it away from Murphy when he comes back with Clarke's drink.

They surreptitiously trade cups on their way out of the kitchen and when Bellamy takes a swig, he sputters immediately.

Clarke smirks, patting him on the back. "You alright there, babe?"

"Quick question: does Murphy hate you?"

"You don't have to keep stepping in front of every bullet that comes my way," she tells him as he takes another sip, smaller this time, and winces. "We could have dumped that down the sink."

"And waste perfectly good alcohol? I don't think so."

"You're ridiculous."

"Yeah, and you love me."

"Mom and Dad are here!" Jasper's voice cuts over Clarke's comeback and she feels Bellamy tense beside her before she remembers that he always calls them that and it has nothing to do with their secret.

"Unless you want us to take away your phone and ground you for a week, quit calling us that," Bellamy says, rolling his eyes. Clarke bites back a smile. Tipsy Bellamy basically just wants to argue with anyone and everyone. Goading him into it is one of her favorite things. Him telling Jasper off about his nicknames is the first sign that he's starting to let loose.

"I want you to tell me you're proud of me and help me pay for college."

"Unrealistic," says Monty. "Aim lower. Shoot for a pat on the shoulder and helping you with your taxes."

Miller scoffs, loud and a little sloppy as he leans into Monty, who looks incredibly pleased.

"Sorry but have you ever seen Bellamy try to do anything with numbers? There's a reason he was a history major."

"Excuse you, I'm great with numbers. Ask me what year anything happened."

"Yeah that's a fun game," says Raven, plopping down next to Murphy on the sofa. “Luna and I just got decimated. Who’s gonna avenge us? Birthday boy, how about you?”

"Pass. Hand-eye coordination is not my forte."

"Miller?"

He contemplates this very seriously. "As soon as I figure out how to stand up," he says. Monty pats his knee.

"Maybe you should sit this round out."

"Yeah, probably." He agrees. "I nominate Bell'my. He needs to learn fun."

"I know how to have fun," Bellamy protests.

"Great, so you're in," Raven says before he can backtrack. "Griffin?"

Clarke imagines Bellamy drinking ten solo cups of beer all because she's got terrible hand-eye coordination and can't drink and winces.

"I'm not feeling beer pong. Why don't we play something else? I'm sure Monty has something we can turn into a drinking game."

"Oh yeah, definitely. We could go the easy route and break out Cards Against Humanity or we could step it up a notch and open one of the games I got for my birthday."

Since only six of them can play Dominion with the expansion pack Monty has been excited to try out, they split into two groups. With Raven, Murphy, and Jasper all in the Cards Against Humanity group, Clarke has a feeling any simple drinking game rules are going to become complicated and hard to keep up with by the end of the first round so she joins Monty-- and Miller, who is practically glued to his side by now-- to figure out Hinterlands.

Bellamy sticks with her, bickering under his breath with Miller as they get the board set up. Monroe and Harper take up the other two spots, their cups full almost to the brim in preparation.

The rules of the drinking game are simple: every time they don't know what to do on their turn, they take a drink. As the game goes on, they _should_ have to take fewer and fewer drinks, except that between increasing drunkenness and trash-talking overtop of Monty's explanations of the rules, Clarke has a feeling nobody is going to be in the best frame of mind for strategizing.

Well, nobody but her and Monty, who mostly understands the new rules and seems to be drinking whenever he feels like it.

It's actually a pretty fun way to spend a party as the only totally sober one, she decides, laughing at her friends' antics and kicking their asses.

"Look, it's you," Bellamy says, leaning over to show her one of his cards that features a blonde woman in a renaissance outfit holding a baby. "Only it should be called Princess instead of Duchess. I'm going to write a strongly-worded letter."

"You do that." She cards her fingers through his hair, scratching her nails against his scalp and he sighs, propping his chin on her shoulder.

"No cheating," she chastises gently, pressing her own cards to her chest.

"I'm not cheating. I'm checking in." He butts her cheek with his nose and Clarke has to smile. Once he gets past his tipsy belligerence, drunk Bellamy is sloppily affectionate. He's her favorite person. "You holding up okay?"

"Better than you are," she teases. "Maybe get a beer or something not as strong after this."

"I'm _fine_. You're not too tired?"

"Nah. I'm having fun." She jostles her shoulder, gently detaching him. "Look alive, it's your turn."

"Oh." He frowns at his cards, shrugs, and throws one down.

"You picked that at random," Harper accuses him. "Drink."

Miller crows with laughter and Bellamy mutters something unintelligible under his breath but lifts his cup to Harper in a toast and drinks.

"Clarke!" Raven leans across the coffee table, a cup outstretched in her hand. "You have to try this. It's so gross."

"Ringing endorsement." Clarke rolls her eyes, making no move to take the cup. "What's in it?"

"Rum, and like-- all the schnapps."

"That's disgusting."

"Yep." Raven says, popping the 'p' and shaking the cup at Clarke. "Jasper says it's good though so I need a second opinion."

"I'm pretty sure Jasper's just trying to get everyone to try it," Clarke says as Monty grabs the cup and takes a tentative sip. The face he makes says enough.

"Yeah, no dude. That's vile."

"I want to try." Miller sits up and takes a much larger swallow, then flinches as if he's about to spit it out all over the board. Or possibly vomit.

"You okay there?" Monty asks, patting his back. Miller shudders.

"That was the worst five seconds of my life."

"You weren't supposed to hold it in your mouth!"

"My brain didn't want to let it into my digestive system." He shakes his head. "Who's next?"

Monroe drinks with a completely straight face, then Harper, and by the time it comes to Bellamy there's only half the cup left.

"There is no way I'm trying that," Clarke laughs.

"If I had to, you have to," Miller slurs.

"You didn't _have_ to."

"Come on, you've tried grosser shit than this," Raven prods.

Clarke knows that if she put her foot down, nobody would make her drink. They wouldn't think less of her, either. It's not peer pressure so much as it is knowing Clarke well enough to know what her limits normally are.

But they'd ask why, and she'd have to come up with a lie or tell them the truth two weeks early. It wouldn't be the worst thing in the world, but it's not the plan either. And Clarke likes having a plan.

"I don't--" she starts, but is interrupted when Bellamy tips the cup up for a drink, and then keeps tipping it up and up and up until it's completely upside-down.

They all gape at him, horrified, as he smacks his lips together and sticks his tongue out, rasping, "I _hate_ that."

"Then why did you drink it all?" Monty demands.

"Went with my gut." He washes it down with a large gulp from his own drink as everyone continues to stare. "What?"

"You're acting weird tonight," Raven says at last.

"Bellamy's always weird," Miller puts in, but Raven shakes her head.

"This is like-- next level. Is there something going on?"

"Nothing is going on," Clarke says firmly. But Raven doesn't let it go.

"That's the second time tonight he's--" Her eyes widen. "Oh my god."

"What's oh my god?" Jasper asks, head whipping back and forth between her and Clarke like he's watching a tennis match. "What?"

"It's nothing," Clarke starts, but Bellamy, looking green around the gills, stage-whispers, "Shh, Raven. It's a _secret_."

"A secret?" Monty echoes.

"I love secrets," Jasper offers.

Bellamy sways a little, then lays down with his head in Clarke's lap. "The room is spinning."

"I know." She laughs, shakes her head and pets him. "Just take a minute, babe."

"I'm sleepy," he grumbles, unaware of their audience. "But I also really have to pee. Is this what being pregnant feels like all the time? 'Cause I'm so sorry if it is."

She feels the room freeze in surprise and can't help laughing. "The only thing you should be sorry for is spilling the beans before we told Octavia. She's gonna be pissed at you."

Bellamy mumbles something incoherent but she loses it beneath the sudden clamor of everyone coming to the same realization Raven had found all on her own.

"You're _pregnant_?"

"When is it due?"

"How come you didn't tell us?"

"You're not really drinking the drink I made you, right?"

Clarke makes a face at Murphy. "Of course not. Bellamy switched with me. I've been drinking straight cranberry juice all night, despite all of your best efforts. And I'm ten weeks along. We were going to tell you guys once I was in my second trimester."

"Bellamy's been drinking all the drinks we gave you all night?" Raven laughs. "No wonder he's passed out."

"I told him he didn't have to do that," Clarke says fondly, her hand drifting along his back, soothing him as he melts further into her.

"Idiot," Miller says, equally fond as he reaches out to ruffle Bellamy's hair. Bellamy swats at him halfheartedly.

"I was taking one for the team," he protests. Everyone laughs again.

"You took more than _one_ for the team."

"No wonder Clarke is almost beating me," Monty says. "I couldn't figure it out but I bet being sober really helps."

"Yeah, we should all play again sometime. Then maybe you guys would put up a fair fight."

"Big talk, Griffin."

"Yeah, I'm totally about to make a comeback," Miller says, putting down a reaction card that has nothing to do with anything.

"It's not even your turn," Monty tells him.

"Shit, are you sure?"

"Completely."

And just like that, everything settles back into how it was before, with the exception of Bellamy snoring in Clarke's lap. Murphy helps her get him to the car once the games are over, and when they get back to their place he's with it enough to carry most of his own weight, at least as far from the car to the elevator and the elevator to the bed.

She makes him drink some water, but not nearly enough, because in the morning, when she gets back in bed after her six a.m. visit to the bathroom, he groans as he wraps himself around her.

"Hung over?" She asks, tucking her smile against his neck.

"It tastes like something died in my mouth. And beat up my brain." He squirms closer, tangling his legs with hers. "Did I tell everyone about the baby last night?"

"Yep."

"Dammit."

She laughs, kissing whatever bit of skin she can reach. "Don't worry about it. Just maybe next time remember that drunk Bellamy doesn't keep secrets well."

"Couldn't help it. I'm excited."

His hand slips under her shirt to rest against her baby bump, which has just started to show. Clarke shuts her eyes and basks in the warmth of his body, his hand, their bed after a much-needed night of rest. She can't find it in her to be annoyed at all right now.

"Yeah," she mumbles as she drifts off. "I'm excited too."


End file.
